


Collected TaserTooth Ficlets

by ozhawk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Ficlet Collection, TaserTooth, Tumblr Prompt, unrelated ficlets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-14 15:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8019208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short stories and ficlets featuring the pairing of Darcy Lewis/Victor Creed (Sabretooth), a pairing which I invented and christened TaserTooth. The pairing developed quite a following and I regularly get prompted/offered large bribes to write more. Eventually I realised that it was all getting too hard for fans of the pairing to hunt through all my ficlet collections for their OTP so have decided to collect them all up.</p>
<p>There is no new work in this collection. All ficlets have previously been posted elsewhere. Future prompts for the pair will be double-posted here and in whatever fic collection the prompt is for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Index

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Index of chapters, with notes on related 'verses, if appropriate

1\. Index

2\. You Came Back - original Soulmate Short

3\. Soulmate Sexytimes - sequel to the original Short

4\. Mistletoe

5\. Gifts

6\. Snowballs

7\. Be My Valentine

8\. Poison Ivy

9\. Through The Window (Part 1 of the Pietro Jealousy 'verse)

10\. In The Kitchen??? (Part 2 of the Pietro Jealousy 'verse)

11\. What Big Teeth You Have

12\. Hold On To Something (Part 3 of the Pietro Jealousy 'verse)

13\. I Think I Love You

14\. You're Very Sexy When You're Angry


	2. You Came Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The original Soulmate Short I wrote for the pairing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Theme song:**
> 
> **No Doubt - Don’t Speak**

 [](http://s1383.photobucket.com/user/Catherine_Bilson/media/Shorts%20Covers%202/Tasertooth_zpsa8tuo6ln.jpg.html)

 _Kidnapped.  Again. What even is my life?_ Darcy whined mentally... and a little bit verbally as the black-clad man carrying her banged her knee on the wall turning a corner.

“Hey, watch it, buster!” she said weakly. Her leg hurt like hell: she didn’t think it was broken, but it had twisted horribly as she fell down a flight of stairs running for the safe room Stark had built under their super-duper new astronomical observatory and she’d felt something snap inside her knee with a white-hot spear of agony. _Ligament or tendon_ , she thought gloomily. She’d screamed at Jane, standing at the door of the safe room, to get inside just as the men came clattering down the stairs, saw the agony and indecision on Jane's face as Erik slammed the door shut.

Darcy had blacked out with the pain in her leg as she tried to get up. Came to trussed up like a turkey in the back of a van... but there were only black-clad men around her, muttering in a guttural language she didn’t recognise, and they sounded _pissed_ , so Darcy hoped that meant Jane and Erik were safe.

The man carrying her only snorted and kept walking, but he didn’t bang her leg again, so Darcy figured she’d call it a win. She sank back into her pain-filled haze, only coming back to alertness when she heard the clang of a heavy steel door.

It was a cell block, and a crude one, basically just rows of heavy steel bars set into concrete top and bottom, welded with cross-braces vertically every foot or so. At first Darcy thought there was no one else there, but as one of the cages was unlocked and she was plonked unceremoniously down on a thin mattress inside, she saw that there was a... _thing_ in the next cage. Shaggy-haired, unkempt, it twisted around and stared at her, and she flinched back as she realised it was a man, dressed in rags, his eyes gleaming with a feral light. And then he opened his mouth to speak to the guards and she flinched back at the sight of his too-sharp, gleaming white canine teeth.

“Раз уж вы принесли мне этот лакомый кусочек, могли бы посадить её ко мне,” Victor growled.

“ Мечтать не вредно, мутант!” the men laughed crudely and left, slamming the cell door behind them.

Victor looked curiously at his new prison companion. Young and very pretty, a toothsome bit indeed with a lush figure and… very, very frightened deep blue eyes.

He wasn’t a man for gentleness. If he’d ever known how, he’d long since forgotten. But he tried to be kind, to ease that terror in her eyes.

“I don’t _actually_ eat human flesh,” he growled.

Darcy managed, somehow, to suppress a scream. _No. No. This is a nightmare. That – that_ beast-man _did_ not _just say_ that _._ She clutched at her leg and said nothing.

Victor growled slightly to himself. “Do you understand me? You speak English?” She looked Western, considering her clothes, and he was pretty sure they were still in the Americas somewhere, although their captors were Kazakhstani.

 _If I don’t speak, he’ll never know_. Darcy nodded slowly. She’d seen a movie once where the heroine pulled off this trick after finding out a villain was her soulmate… she put her tongue out, tapped it and shook her head.

“You’re mute? Damn. I don’t speak ASL.”

She blinked, surprised that he sounded annoyed about that. Made some vaguely sign-language-ish signs with her hands and shrugged her shoulders, as though to indicate, _it doesn’t matter_.

“I’m Victor. Victor Creed.” He sniffed the air, stared hard at her. “You’re hurt. I can smell your pain.”

 _You can WHAT?_ Darcy had been rethinking her decision to pretend she was mute when he spoke quite pleasantly, hastily changed her mind yet again now. She pointed at her knee, mimed wrenching it.

“Huh. Nuthin’ I can do for that.” He paced his cell, growling to himself, didn’t speak to her again.

It was a few hours later when the cell block’s outer door opened again and two of the Kazakhs came back in. They each had a plastic cup of water and a bowl of soup, pushed them one at a time through the bars of the cells, the one at Victor’s cell keeping a wary eye on him.

“The girl’s hurt,” Victor growled at them in Russian. “She can’t walk. Get her some bandages for her leg and some fucking painkillers.”

“You don’t give the orders around here, mutant!” was his only reply, and then they left again.

Victor sighed. Looked at the girl, who was looking at the bowl and cup. “D’you think you can get over there?” he asked.

Darcy considered. Eventually, she pushed herself slowly off the mattress and tried to ease across the floor. The slightest movement was agony on her leg, though, and she stilled, tears pricking at her eyes.

“Okay. Stay there.” Victor considered the problem. The bowl and cup in her cell was way too far away for him to reach. He sighed. He could go without food and water for a long time, but in her weakened state, this girl wouldn’t last long. Picking up his own bowl and cup, he moved as close to her as he could and pushed them through the bars. They ended up less than a foot from her hand.

Darcy stared incredulously as Victor gave her his own portion. She shook her head and tried to push them back at him, provoking an absolutely terrifying growl. Petrified, she grabbed the cup and took a sip of the flat, faintly metallic-tasting water inside.

Victor nodded approvingly. Watched as the girl drank the water and ate the soup. She peered at him cautiously occasionally, still clearly terrified of him. At last she set the bowl down, tilted it to show him it was empty. He smiled, not showing his teeth.

“Good girl. You’ll need your strength.”

She stared at him for a few long moments, and then she put her finger to the cell floor and started moving it in the dust. Writing something.

_DARCY_

“Darcy? That’s your name?”

She nodded and gave him a small smile. He nodded slowly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Darcy.”

Exhausted and frightened, Darcy watched for a little while as Victor paced his cell. He moved, she thought, more like a caged animal than a man, like a lion she’d seen once on a documentary about the world’s worst zoos, silently pacing its territory, waiting for the opportunity to strike. Untameable.

Cold, she huddled on the mattress. There was no blanket, and the mattress was thin enough that the chill from the concrete floor seeped through the thin foam. There was no way to get warm, but eventually her pain and weariness overcame her consciousness and her senses slipped away.

Victor paused in his pacing, stared at Darcy. Her breathing had slowed, indicating sleep, but… she was shivering, and he suspected her state was closer to unconsciousness than sleep. Those bastards, didn’t even give her a blanket. Why was she even here? She had some value as a hostage, a negotiating chip, he guessed. Well, she’d have no value to their captors if she died. No skin off his nose.

Except… there was some instinct deep inside him that couldn’t let it happen. Not if he could do something to prevent it. With a deep sigh that might have sounded something like a growl, Victor knelt and reached through the bars to grab the edge of the mattress.

Darcy woke feeling surprisingly warm. Blinking her eyes slowly open as consciousness returned, she became slowly aware that there was something tight around her aching knee, and something very warm against her back, and even warmer over her stomach.

“Don’t be alarmed, now,” a gruff voice said very close to her ear. “Just didn’t want ya to freeze to death.”

She froze, and the very warm thing over her stomach moved away, revealing itself to be a man’s bare, muscular arm.

Slowly, she turned over, looked at him. She was lying up against the bars of the cage, and the shirt he’d been wearing slid away; he’d placed it between her back and the bars, then pressed himself up against the bars and held her, doing his best to share his body heat.

His eyes were a stormy grey-blue as he looked at her. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments before a sudden sound had Victor leaping to his feet, fingers curled into claws.

The guards were back. They looked at Darcy’s untouched cup and bowl, snapped at Victor in Russian. He snapped back, his tone derisive, pointed at Darcy’s leg. She looked down at it, wondering what the tight thing around her knee was, discovered it to be a strip of fabric she suspected he’d torn off his shirt.

There was more surly snarling in Russian and then the guards went away. To Darcy’s enormous surprise, they returned a few minutes later with a blanket and some actual bandages, and one of them unlocked her cell and came in. Warily eyeing Victor, he grabbed the edge of her mattress and dragged it away from Victor’s cell before crouching down to bandage Darcy’s knee properly.

The other guard, who’d remained outside the cell, laughed and said something that Darcy suspected was crude from the tone, not to mention the suggestive gesture that accompanied the remark. The guard bandaging Darcy’s knee looked at her breasts and started to smile.

Until Victor snarled.

The sound was _horrifying_ , and both guards lurched back, faces paling. The one bandaging Darcy’s leg snatched his hands away as though burned, they both glanced at each other – and then they fled, the cell door slamming behind them.

 _You are a very,_ very _scary… thing_. Darcy stared at Victor for a moment, and he stared back, before turning his back and starting to pace again. She looked down at her half-bandaged leg, sighed and took up the task herself.

“You’re not pulling it tight enough,” Victor growled after a moment. “Come here.”

She hesitated before shuffling off the mattress and over to the bars. He reached through them and pulled the bandage a whole lot tighter, supporting her knee properly, and for the first time Darcy noticed that his fingers were _clawed_.

 _Don’t scream don’t speak just keep your mouth_ shut _, Darcy_ …

She looked up at Victor once he’d finished tying the bandage tight, and he smiled at her, keeping his lips together to hide those horrifyingly sharp canine teeth, she realised. “You’ll need an operation, maybe, once you’re out of here,” he said quietly. “But hopefully that will keep you together in the meantime.”

She managed a small smile and a nod in return, and he went back to his pacing.

The guards were back in half an hour, this time with another man who Darcy hadn’t seen before. He stepped up to Victor’s cage and there was a lot of snarly Russian. She just sat quietly and watched, wondering what was going on, until the Important Bad Guy got just a little too heated and a little too close.

Darcy blinked and nearly missed it. Victor moved _waaaay_ too fast, suddenly Important Bad Guy’s neck was spouting blood, and the cell keys that had been hanging on his belt were in Victor’s hand.

The other two guards pulled out their guns and started shooting, and Darcy immediately stopped watching and curled up into the tiniest little ball she could manage, praying she didn’t get hit by any ricochets. There was a screech, snarling noises, more gunfire, screaming… and everything went quiet.

Slowly and very cautiously, Darcy lifted her head.

There was no sign of Victor. His cage door swung open, there were three very dead bodies on the ground, and more blood than Darcy had ever seen in her life. She looked away and tried not to vomit.

 _He just left me here,_ one part of her brain whispered.

 _Good!_ the more sensible part declared. _Let’s just hope he makes enough racket leaving that the authorities come to check the place out_.

She stayed there for what seemed like forever, resolutely keeping her eyes away from the bodies and the blood.

 _What if no one comes?_ she thought suddenly. _Oh God I’m going to end up gnawing on dead bodies to survive_ …

The outer cell block door creaked as it swung open, and Darcy looked up – into Victor’s eyes.

He’d changed his clothes, into some of the guards’  black commando gear, and washed his hands, made an effort to wash the blood off his face too. She still looked at him as though he was a monster, and Victor sighed, reaching out to unlock her cell door.

“Sorry I took a while. Wanted to make sure the place was safe before I came back for you, and then I was, well, kind of messy. Didn’t want to give you nightmares.”

Darcy blinked in astonishment as he came into the cell, stooped to pick her up and cradle her gently in his arms.

“You came back for me,” she whispered wonderingly.

Victor’s stride towards the door stuttered. He looked down at Darcy, his grey eyes wide, before resuming. “Had to, didn’t I? I was never gonna find my soulmate if I got in the habit of leaving people behind.” His arms tightened around her protectively. “Wouldn’t ever leave _you_ behind, Darcy. Not ever.”

She let her head rest on his shoulder, oddly soothed by the musky, animal scent that rose from his skin. Her leg still hurt appallingly, and she felt horribly nauseous, but somehow, she was quite confident that everything was going to be fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darcy woke in a hospital bed, with Jane asleep in a chair beside her. For a few moments she thought that it had all been a dream, until she looked beyond Jane and saw Victor outside in the corridor.

Pacing.

She drifted back to sleep with a small smile on her face. Victor was standing guard outside her room, pacing.

Everything was just perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   **Раз уж вы принесли мне этот лакомый кусочек, могли бы посадить её ко мне**  
>  **– If you were going to bring me some fresh meat, you could at least have thrown it in with me**
> 
> **Мечтать не вредно, мутант! – In your dreams, mutant!**  
> 


	3. Soulmate Sexytimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows on from the original Soulmate Short, this is the Crackship Armada Sexytimes sex-and-bonding scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note: Comic canon says Sabretooth is 6’ 6”. While Liev Schreiber isn’t quite that tall at 6’ 3”, I have a confessed height-difference kink, so we’re going with the taller option ;)**

 [](http://s1383.photobucket.com/user/Catherine_Bilson/media/cracksmut%20pics/liev-schreiber-sabretooth_zpsojdxzq7p.jpg.html)

The next time Darcy awoke, Jane was gone and it was Victor sitting in the chair by the bed. He seemed to be waiting for her to open her eyes, and she realised he’d probably been watching the monitors, seen her heartrate and breathing change.

“Hello,” she whispered a little shyly.

“Why did you pretend to be mute?”

She winced a little. She’d known the question would come eventually, but apparently Victor _really_ didn’t believe in beating around the bush. “You were kinda scary,” she said finally. “And the first thing you said was my soulmate words. I just… I really…”

His stiff, rather severe expression softened. “It’s all right, Darcy. I know I’m not exactly what the dreams of young girls are filled with, I’ve never been anybody’s prince.”

If she hadn’t been so sore and aching – and her leg was in a brace hanging from the ceiling, too – she’d have launched herself at him and denied it in the strongest manner possible. Instead she clutched at his hand where it lay close to hers on the bed. “No!” she said loudly.

Indeed, cleaned up, his beard neatly shorn, his hair shaved back, he was brutally handsome in the kind of way that had always made Darcy go weak. She _knew_ how big he was, how muscular, and frankly her insides were totally knotting up at the thought of a time when he could touch her as she was beginning to want rather desperately.

Victor’s nostrils flared.

“Oh my God.” _He can_ smell _my arousal. Think about something else, Darcy, anything, for fuck’s sake, something other than what you want him to do to you…_

“I need to get out of here.” Victor shot to his feet and fled.

Embarrassed as hell, Darcy closed her eyes and wondered if it was actually possible to die of humiliation.

Jane came bustling in then. “Darce! Victor said you were awake. Oh, honey, thank goodness, I am so glad.” She bent over Darcy to hug her, and over her shoulder Darcy saw Thor entering the room as well, a broad smile on his face.

“Lady Darcy. It is good indeed to see your eyes open.”

She accepted their greetings – Thor even toned down the strength of his hug in deference to her fragile state – looked pitifully up at Jane and said “What the _fuck_ happened?”

Darcy gleaned, from the babbled explanation Jane gave, and Thor’s occasional interjections, that Victor had carried her – on foot! – several miles to the nearest town and straight into a hospital emergency department. He’d only been able to tell them that her name was Darcy and she’d been kidnapped, but that was more than enough for the hospital staff to take one look at her and match her up with the images Stark had paid a lot of money to have plastered all over the TV ever since she vanished.

One phone call later and Thor had been on his way via high-speed hammer.

Both Jane and Thor went suspiciously quiet, then, and Darcy narrowed her eyes at them. “What is it that you aren’t telling me?”

“Let me tell her,” Jane said quietly to Thor, who finally shrugged and nodded. He left with a nod at Darcy. The click of the door behind him was ominously loud.

“Please just spit it out,” Darcy said finally when Jane took an inordinately long time to get settled in the chair, repositioning it and fiddling about.

“Victor kind of used to be a bad guy.”

Darcy thought about it. “Well,” she said slowly, “so did Bucky. And Natasha.”

“He kind of used to be a bad guy until really quite recently.”

“How recently?”

“Kind of right up until you got thrown into the cell next to his, I believe.”

She was so not ready to deal with that. She put her forearm over her eyes and kept it there until Jane left.

When Darcy woke again, Victor was back in the chair by the bed. Watching her.

“So you know,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Are you going to hurt anybody I care about?” Darcy asked finally.

“Never.” His grey eyes watched her with an almost unnerving intensity.

“Is anyone going to try to hurt me to get to you?”

One corner of his lip lifted to show a sharp canine and he let out a low, rumbling snarl. “If they do, they die.”

Darcy realised she could live with that. ‘Good guys’ didn’t target partners and families. That was bad guy tactics. “Am I going to have to peacemake between you and the people you’ve pissed off?”

Victor cracked a small smile at that. “Very likely. My brother, you know already. You’ll definitely have to convince him that I’ve switched sides for your sake.”

“I do? Who?” Darcy blinked incredulously.

“Logan.”

She had to think about it for a minute; the IV in her arm was definitely running in something that fuzzed her brain. Morphine, she guessed. “ _Wolverine?_ ” she gasped finally. Now that she’d said it, she could see the family resemblance, actually. The two men were quite a lot alike.

Victor inclined his head.

“So what’s your name?” Darcy had to ask. “There’s no way everyone just calls you Victor…”

“Sabretooth.” He parted his lips, showed her his fangs. Held his hands up and extended the brutal inch-long claws that were normally almost completely concealed within his fingers.

“Shiiiit.” She should be much more afraid, Darcy thought, but somehow she was utterly convinced that he would never, ever hurt her.

“I won’t hurt you. Not ever. If you want me gone, I’m gone, Darcy.”

His expression was blank as he said the words. Completely still.

“I don’t want you gone,” she said softly at last. “You’re my soulmate, and there’s a reason for that.” Carefully she reached out and put a fingertip to the top of one of his claws, careful to avoid the sharp tip and bladed underside. It felt hard and cold, shimmering bright in the hospital lights. “What is it?”

“Adamantium sheath. Same as the stuff Logan’s claws are made of.”

“They experimented on you, too,” Darcy realised. “Oh, _Victor_.”

His expression shifted, and he retracted his claws abruptly. “Don’t pity me,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t deserve it.”

And once again, he walked out on her.

“I’m going to cure you of that bad habit, Victor Creed!” Darcy shouted after him. She scowled at her leg. “Just as soon as I can fucking walk again.”

She was transferred to New York the following day, and Victor wasn’t on the flight. Jane professed ignorance of his whereabouts, as did Thor.

The medical floor of Avengers Tower was much more comfortable, Darcy had to concede, and having Bruce Banner and Helen Cho as her doctors was insane. They ran scans and Helen was soon setting up her machines to fix Darcy’s leg.

“We’ll grow you a new piece of ligament,” the slender scientist murmured, positioning the machine on Darcy’s leg. “You’ll be on your feet again in no time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Helen had been quite right, of course. Within half an hour Darcy was walking again, pacing up and down slowly at first with the support of Thor’s willing arm, and then testing her leg more thoroughly. Once Helen and Bruce cleared her to go, though, she promptly said;

“Where’s Victor?”

“He said he had something to do,” Thor said, and then shrugged when she pressed him for information. “I do not know, Darcy.”

Over the next few weeks, it became very apparent what it was that Victor felt he ‘had to do’. All of a sudden, various criminals who had been eluding the long arm of the law started turning up bound and gagged on the steps of police stations worldwide. Dangerous mutants were delivered to the gates of Xavier’s Academy, drugged and wearing power inhibitors.

Logan turned up to talk to Darcy – bringing Jean Grey with him. _Of course_ , Darcy thought cynically. _Bring a telepath to make sure I haven’t somehow selected Victor’s targets on this little anti-crime spree of his_. She wasn’t quite sure it reached the level of vigilantism. No-one actually seemed to be hurt other than a few bruises and the odd scratch.

It was Logan who eventually tracked Victor down, as he was preparing to go into a fight with Magneto.

“This has to stop,” Logan growled, confronting his brother.

“Nearly done.”

“No, Victor! This isn’t your fight. You’re outmatched against him. He knows you’re comin’ for him.”

Victor snarled. “Outta my way, I gotta do this, Logan!”

“For Darcy?”

The word stopped him cold. “She asked me if there were people who would come after her to get to me,” Victor said finally. “I realised that I couldn’t handle that. Knowin’ that there were. So I did what I had to do to keep her safe.”

“You took them all out of play first.” Logan had long since figured _that_ out. “But Magneto, he’s outta your league, brother.”

Victor stood silent, staring at Logan. “So what do I do?”

Logan gestured, and from over the hill behind them, figures emerged, walking silently through early morning mist. The X-Men. “We take him together. His glass prison’s all ready for him again.”

Victor stared for a long moment. And then he smiled, showing his fangs. “Let’s go. Darcy’s waitin’ on me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey.”

Darcy screamed and fell off her office chair. She never reached the floor, though, powerful hands grabbing her and lifting her back to the seat easily.

“Sorry I startled you.”

“Jesus, learn to make some noise while you walk!” Darcy clutched at her chest, panting as she stared up at Victor. “I’ll buy you some freaking tap shoes or something!”

He smiled down at her. “Only for you would I wear them, Darcy.”

“How did you get in here anyway?” They were back at the observatory, following a couple of weeks at Avengers Tower while Stark massively upgraded their security, and Clint and Natasha trained some guards for them.

Victor only raised an eyebrow at that.

“Are you finished with your little anti-crime spree now?” Darcy folded her arms defensively and looked up at him.

“Anti-crime spree,” he mused. “I like the sound of that. Yes, Darcy, I have. You’re safe.”

“I’m…” suddenly she realised what he’d done, and exactly why. “Oh, _Victor_.” Her blue eyes softened, her arms unfolded. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He knelt at her feet. “I did. It’s a small start to what I have to do to make amends to those I’ve hurt, but the beginning had to be making sure you’ll always be safe.”

She reached out to touch his grizzled cheek and he closed his eyes, turned his head and rubbed against her palm like a cat. Darcy _melted_.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly.

“You gotta be safe, Darcy.”

It was instinct for him, she realised, an innate, inborn need to protect his mate. The thought of a man as dangerous as Victor feeling that way about _her_ made something bloom inside Darcy, a hot, fiery lust.

He scented it, of course, his nostrils flaring, pupils darkening as he looked at her. “ _Darcy_ ,” he whispered, his voice a low, rasping rumble. His tongue flicked out to lick over his lips, and she shivered in sudden, wanton delight.

Victor’s fingers curled, his claws emerging a fraction. “If you don’t want me to fuck you right now, then you need to tell me to leave,” he said, and there wasn’t much human left in the growl of his voice.

“Unnn. Are you going to shred all my clothes off and fuck me roughly?”

“That was goin’ through my mind, yeah.”

“Then just give me one minute,” she spun her office chair away from him, headed over to the door and closed it, twisting the lock. _Thank Thor she had her own private office here_. Then she turned back to Victor and smiled. “Come and catch me, then.”

Her desk was between them. He cleared it in a single bound, had her pinned up against the door less than a second after her challenge. “You didn’t run,” he growled down at her, lifting her off her feet.

“I didn’t want to,” Darcy panted, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Sometime, we’ll do this outside. You can run, try and escape me. I’ll take my time hunting you down,” he snarled it in her ear, and Darcy shuddered with wanton lust, eyes rolling back in her head.

“Cat playing with a mouse?”

“Mm-hmm. And then I’ll eat you all up.”

She had no doubt about what he meant, not with that hardness pushing against her groin, the way he licked at her earlobe, worrying at it with his tongue – which was very long and agile, _oh Thor was she ever in trouble_. Cats did like to play with their prey, after all. Darcy had the feeling that this wasn’t going to be quick, as Victor turned, carrying her back across the room to her desk and setting her bottom on it, looking down at her with hungry eyes.

“D’you like these clothes?”

“Not as much as I will when you’ve ripped them off,” Darcy was almost delirious with need.

Victor didn’t ask again. His woman, his _mate_ , wanted this, wanted what _he_ wanted. Viciously sharp claws unsheathed. He didn’t put a single scratch on her pale skin, though, as he methodically sliced the unwanted fabric of her shirt away, revealing her lush body to his gaze.

Darcy moaned as a claw hooked under the front of her bra, the silk parting instantly, her breasts tumbling free.

“Fuuuck,” Victor breathed, gazing down at her, braced back on her arms, those magnificent pillowy breasts thrust up as she arched, tipping her head back, exposing her throat to him, perfectly vulnerable, utterly beautiful. And soon to be completely _his_.

“Please,” Darcy whimpered, so he pushed her down on the desk and bent over her, cupping her breasts in his big hands, marvelling at the way the soft flesh filled them to perfection. Her nipples, plump and pink, hardened as he brushed the tip of his thumbs lightly over them, so he leaned down and licked, dragging his tongue roughly around the sensitive little nub of flesh.

“Oh, guuuhhhhh,” Darcy groaned eloquently as Victor went to work on her breasts with his mouth. She felt the light prick of his sharp canines occasionally, but he was careful not to let them pierce her skin, and the feeling was insanely erotic as he plumped and suckled her breasts. She ran her hands over his short hair, marvelling at the texture; it was _silky_ , more like a cat’s fur than any human hair she’d ever touched. She dug her nails in lightly and heard a rumbling sound… was he actually _purring_?

“There’s my good kitty cat,” she murmured.

Victor groaned disgustedly, but he couldn’t stop the purring rumbling deep in his chest as she kept stroking and scratching at his scalp. He melted against her, rubbing himself over her, just like a huge cat as she petted him. Darcy _adored_ it, especially since the purring as he licked and suckled on her nipples felt _really_ nice. Finally he pulled back, the pupils in his grey eyes huge, the purr still rumbling loudly in his broad chest, and ran his hands lightly down her stomach to her pants, the claws emerging again.

Darcy watched in awe as he curved his claws under the waistband and drew them downwards in a long smooth sweep, the ribbons of ragged fabric curling away from her legs. The cold metal of the backs of his claws sliding on her skin made her shiver a little with anticipation as Victor flung the rags aside, reached to slip off her shoes. Her only covering now was a pair of silky blue bikini panties that had matched her bra, and they were gone with another flick of his claws.

She lay back on the desk, on the ruins of her clothing, and held her arms out to him in welcome.

Victor could hardly breathe. “So lovely,” he rumbled. “What did I do to deserve you, Darcy?” He shrugged out of his coat, peeled off the long-sleeved tee he wore beneath. Unbuckled his belt, toed his boots off and stripped out of his pants.

Darcy watched eagerly as he discarded his clothes, admiring his broad chest, thickly fuzzed with dark hair, flat stomach, narrow waist. Her eyes travelled down to his arousal, sized well in proportion to his thick frame, and she licked her lips hungrily.

“You know it isn’t about what you deserve, Victor,” she told him. “Soulmates are about finding the one person who can give you what you need to be whole. You need me – and I need you, so get over here and fuck me before I go mad.”

He moved inhumanly fast, stooping over her, gazing at her face, and Darcy realised suddenly that he hadn’t even kissed her yet. She reached up to put her hands on his shoulders, pulling him down, only he didn’t move so she ended up pulling herself upwards, one of his strong hands slipping around her waist to support her.

“Kiss me,” she begged, reaching for his mouth – he was _stupidly_ tall – and he licked his lips, showing a flash of fang, but still seemed hesitant.

“Darcy, my teeth are too sharp. I can work around them, but you could easily cut yourself.”

Darcy wasn’t the type to blush. So she looked into his eyes and told him what she wanted. “I’m not planning to try and stick my tongue in your mouth. I want yours in mine. I want _you_ in _me_.”

“You really are made just for me, aren’t you?” he snarled softly just before his lips met hers.

Darcy moaned with delight as Victor’s tongue thrust roughly into her mouth, licking and stroking harshly. She suckled on his tongue, clinging to his broad shoulders, felt his long hand stroke up her outer thigh then and parted her legs eagerly.

He stroked gently, very careful to keep his claws fully sheathed. Used the pad of his thumb to rub over her clit, feeling her fingers tighten on his shoulders, her body shake against him as two long, thick fingers pushed slowly into her weeping pussy.

“So wet,” Victor growled, lifting his head. “So wet for me.”

“Want you so much,” Darcy moaned in response. “ _Please_ , Victor!”

He smiled down at her. “I like cream, you know.”

It took a moment for Darcy’s lust-addled brain to put that together, and then she moaned frantically as he pushed her back down on the desk again and went to his knees, putting his face right between her thighs, kissing along the soft tender flesh.

Darcy whimpered desperately as Victor began slowly, methodically, to stroke her inner thighs with his tongue. _Washing_ her, just like a cat, slowly working his way in towards her soaking, needy core. Darcy sent up a little prayer of thanks that she’d hopefully gone out and gotten a wax the day before, when Logan had texted her that Victor should be on his way to her soon. She was bare and clean and there was nothing in the way to slow Victor down – she jumped as his tongue flicked suddenly, deftly over her clit.

He still had two fingers inside her, twisted around now, pumping slowly in and out as he lapped on her clit. Darcy’s moans and cries increased in pitch, her breath coming in quick pants, hips rolling on the desk. Victor began to purr again, unable to stop himself, and Darcy sobbed frantically as the vibrations along his tongue drove her insane.

She was starting to quiver, getting really close to her peak, Victor thought, and despite a very great desire to taste his soulmate coming on his tongue, he wanted far more to feel her coming on his aching, swollen cock. Palming himself with his free hand, he stood quickly, leaning over Darcy again.

“Do you need me to use a condom, Darcy?” He couldn’t catch anything and he suspected she already knew that, but if she could get pregnant – his animal side wanted nothing more than to see her belly swollen with his young, but he had to let her choose when. _If_. Being his soulmate, he hoped that she wanted the same as he did.

“No,” she panted, “want it, please, Victor, oh, please, so close, _I need you_!”

He wouldn’t make her ask again. Reaching for her ankles, he seized them in his hands, lifted them to his shoulders, Darcy’s bottom coming up off the desk as he lined up his cock with her pussy. She grabbed onto the edge of the desk with both hands, making him grin as he fitted the wide, flared head of his cock against her opening, soaking with her juices, and pushed in slowly.

“You better hang on tight, Darcy.”

His voice was barely intelligible, but Darcy had already concluded that hanging on tight was going to be necessary. She squeezed hard on the edge of the desk as Victor filled her in one long, slow thrust, bringing his hands down her legs, his arms along the outside of her thighs as he grasped her bottom in his big hands, pulling her hips off the edge of the desk so he could fuck deep into her, her ass meeting his groin at last.

She took him like a champion, his soulmate; he wasn’t a small man but she was perfect for him, opening up and drawing him deep, little cries spilling from her lips driving him wild, her gorgeous breasts jiggling as he began to thrust, slow at first and then harder, rougher, watching Darcy all the time to make sure he wasn’t doing too much.

“More!” Darcy begged frantically, “please, Victor, please, harder!”

He needed it too, but neither of them would get what they wanted at this angle. Pulling out abruptly, he lifted Darcy, turned her to her stomach.

“Oh God yes,” she said throatily, standing on tiptoe, lifting her ass for him, reaching across the desk to hold onto its further edge. “Fuck me _good_.”

Victor’s eyes were trained on her ass, on the black words scribbled right on the meat of her rounded buttock. Corresponding with the neat writing on the front of his groin. If he took her this way, there was no way that they’d avoid the words coming into contact.

“Darcy, do you want to bond?”

“Yes!” she shouted, frustrated beyond endurance. “Yes, fuck me, bond me, make me yours, Victor, do it fucking _now_!”

He would never be able to deny her anything, least of all _this_ , so he obeyed, plunging deep and driving hard, his hands holding her hips up and steady for him, lifting her feet off the floor as he pistoned in and out.

Darcy shrieked as Victor slammed into her again and again and again, almost brutal, exactly the way she liked it best only so much _better_ because his strength was quite literally superhuman, as was his endurance, and instead of getting tired and slowing after only a few strokes, he was actually getting _faster_ , the delicious friction building incredibly until it finally tipped her over the edge, falling with a long, drawn-out wail of ecstasy.

“Darcy!” It was a roar of triumph as he held her still, hard against him, spasming internal muscles milking a flood of seed from his cock, the bond born between them as their minds opened to each other in the moment of climax.

“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,” Victor was whispering, stroking her hair. She hummed with contentment, rolling her head sideways against his chest.

He’d staggered back after the shock of the bond completed, but held onto her, taking her with him. Limp with ecstasy, Darcy had literally just hung from his hands until he managed to sit down on her office chair, holding her on his lap – still impaled on his cock. He had no intention of pulling out, of letting her go, until he absolutely had to. He held her close instead, petting her hair, whispering her name, still stunned with the wonder of feeling her, of knowing how much she already loved him, despite – or perhaps even because of – the horrors of his past.

“Victor,” she sighed his name at last, smiled as he kissed her brow.

“ _Mine_ ,” he rumbled possessively, and Darcy smiled with utter contentment, laying her hands lightly on the strong arms wrapped securely around her and closing her eyes.

“Yes,” she agreed happily. “I am most _definitely_ yours.”


	4. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas 2015 prompt.

<p>Victor got particularly antsy in the winter, Darcy discovered. Particularly when the snow fell deep and thick around the Avengers Facility.</p>

<p>She completely understood how he felt. At least he could go out, though. Strong enough to bull his way through the thick snow until he got to the tree line and could move more easily. Darcy, though, was stuck inside unless she could convince one of the flyers to take her out. And most of them didn’t particularly like the cold.</p>

<p>It was early December, and to counter her cabin fever she started Christmas decorating. It was a big facility, and most of the inhabitants weren’t that bothered, but she soon recruited Sam and Steve, at least, to help with things she couldn’t reach. Fascinated, Vision watched from a distance, but she soon had him hovering up at ceiling height pinning up tinsel.</p>

<p>Victor watched in slightly surly silence from a short distance. He understood, intellectually, that Darcy had absolutely no romantic interest in any man other than himself, but his instincts made him literally unable to let her out of his sight when there were other men around.</p>

<p>She protested, of course. He only shrugged – and remained silently watchful. Secretly, Darcy found it rather endearing, not that she would ever tell him that. It would only encourage him.</p>

<p>“Mistletoe!” she decided. “That’s what we’re missing. We need some mistletoe.”</p>

<p>“I could obtain some for you, if you wish,” Vision offered. “I believe there is some growing in the woods not far distant from this facility.”</p>

<p>Darcy sighed. “Damn, I wish I could go pick it myself.”</p>

<p>“I could convey you…” Vision started, but before he could complete the sentence, Victor spoke up.</p>

<p>“I know where it is. I’ll take you.”</p>

<p>Everyone turned to look at him in surprise. But none of the men said anything, as Victor moved up close to Darcy and put a possessive hand around her waist. She looked up at him in surprise. “You will?”</p>

<p>“Yeah,” he gave one of his close-lipped smiles, but his eyes gleamed. “Gotta make sure we get that mistletoe.”</p>


	5. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas 2015 prompt.

<p>Victor watched indulgently as Darcy played Santa by the tree, picking up parcels and reading off name tags, making their owners come forward to collect their gifts. She really did love Christmas; she’d thrown herself with such energy into the preparations, baking up a storm, decorating what seemed like the entire facility. He grinned reminiscently, thinking about their trip into the woods to collect the mistletoe. With that sort of incentive, he could really get to like Christmas as well.</p>

<p>“‘Tall and Snarly’,” Darcy read from the gift tag, “‘from Hawkeye.’ Clint, you’re such an ass.”</p>

<p>The archer grinned from his perch atop the couch. “You know it, darlin’.”</p>

<p>“Well, come and collect, Victor,” Darcy glanced over at him.</p>

<p>“Me?” Victor startled. “You – bought <em>me</em> a gift?”</p>

<p>Clint cocked his head briefly, and then smiled. “Yeah. You’re one of the family now, Snarly.”</p>

<p>Startled, Victor accepted the parcel. Opened it to find a pair of beautifully made fingerless combat gloves, sized perfectly for his massive hands. Vicious, backward-curving spines in three rows traced up to his wrist. A backhand slap with a glove, with the force Victor was capable of, could rip an enemy to pieces.</p>

<p>“I made them,” Clint said, when Victor seemed lost for words. “Darcy borrowed a pair of your gloves so I got the size right…”</p>

<p>Victor knew how much time Clint put into making his gear absolutely perfect, how he made his own gloves and armour – and how it wore and lasted even better than Stark gear.</p>

<p>“Thank you,” he said, a little numbly. “Thank you so much, I don’t deserve…”</p>

<p>“Of course you do,” Sam said cheerfully. “You deserve a lot more. You saved my ass last month in Tashkent; without you I’d have been a smear on the sidewalk. Give him my present next, Darcy.”</p>


	6. Snowballs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas 2015 prompt. Smutty :D

Darcy’s glee, when she woke one morning to find the first snowfall of the year had occurred overnight, utterly delighted Victor. She squealed and hopped up and down, childlike, at the window in their apartment, and then rushed for her closet and started tugging on clothes.

“Where are you going?” he rose from their bed, stretched lazily, reached for clothes of his own.

“There’s snow, Victor,” she said.

“So?”

“So I’m gonna build a snowman!” And she rushed out, singing _Do You Wanna Build A Snowman_ at the top of her lungs. Shaking his head, laughing indulgently, Victor reached for his boots and followed her.

He found her making a snow angel first before looking around to find a spot where a little snow had drifted up against a low wall. She started to gather snow into a pile, compressing it hard, but Victor could see that there really wasn’t enough, and it was really too soft and fluffy to make a good snowman. Nevertheless, wanting to see her get her wish, he went over to help, using his big hands to shovel snow over to her.

“Ugh, this isn’t happening,” Darcy said after a few minutes, stating what Victor already knew. “Rats.”

“I can get more snow,” he offered.

“Nah.” She looked across at where he stood a few feet away, scooping snow into a pile, and a cheeky little grin formed on her face. Making some snow into a fist-sized ball, she threw it.

The snowball hit Victor on the side of the head. Startled, he jerked upright, looked at Darcy incredulously. She grinned at him – and threw another snowball. This one splattered on his chest.

“You,” he took a step forward, “are gonna pay for that.”

“Yeah?” she laughed at him.

Victor’s eyebrows drew down, his upper lip curled up to reveal his fangs, a soft growl rumbling in his chest.

Darcy took a small step backward, slightly intimidated. Victor’s nostrils flared, scenting her sudden fright.

“Run,” Victor growled softly. Darcy took another step back, her gaze flicking left and right. “Run, little girl. And when I catch you, I’m gonna eat you all up.”

Blue eyes widened. He crouched, ready to pounce – and she ran, sprinting for the trees a scant thirty yards distant.

He gave her a count of ten before going after her, at a leisurely, ground-eating lope that was still faster than her flat-out sprint. Though she was quite quick, he acknowledged. She was in the trees fast, weaving in and out, picking the tightest spots between the pines where his big body would be a disadvantage.

Or so she thought.

The biggest problem, as Darcy discovered, was that she couldn’t darn well _see_ him. Or hear him. Victor moved so silently, so gracefully, that he seemed to become part of the woods, a silent shadow. Only occasionally did she even get a glimpse of him, glancing around wildly as she ran, out of breath as she wove in and out of trees, excited and a little frightened as well by the intensity with which he’d looked at her.

She saw a flicker of movement among the trees, turned away abruptly and ran fast – straight into Victor’s broad chest. Powerful arms closed around her.

“Got you.”

Darcy squealed and kicked as he lifted her off her feet and took one stride forward, pinning her back to the tree behind her with his body.

“You smell so tasty, little girl,” Victor growled. “Sweet and succulent.”

The very timbre of his voice had Darcy shuddering, wet between her legs. She’d only ever heard that voice from him in their bed, when he was in a particularly dominant mood.

“Victor,” she whimpered, clinging to his shoulders.

“I’ve caught you now, little girl. You’re mine. My prize.” He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. “And I think you like it.”

She sucked in a panting, moaning breath as his fangs grazed her skin, a moment before his lips caught her earlobe, sucking hard. “Yours,” she conceded breathily.

Victor growled again, set her on her feet and yanked his coat off, spreading it on the pine needles. “Have to have you, Darcy.” His eyes gleamed greenish-gold in the faint, pale light beneath the trees. “Now.”

“You’ll have to keep me warm,” she warned as he lowered her to the coat.

“Oh, I’ll keep you warm,” Victor promised huskily. “Don’t you worry about that.”

His skin always felt furnace-hot to Darcy, his metabolism running hotter and faster than any normal human’s. The thick woolen coat still retained his body heat as he bared her skin against it, the sheer size of his body covering her, radiating warmth, insulating her from the cold air.

“So lovely,” Victor rumbled as he stripped Darcy’s clothes away from her. “And mine.”

“Yours,” she gasped as his fingers probed between her legs, his lips curving into a smile as he felt how wet she was. Lifting them to his mouth, he licked at them eagerly, making a pleasured, purring sound.

“Sweet. You liked being hunted down, Darcy? Being captured?”

“Being yours,” she whispered as he freed himself from his pants, his cock thick and eager, jutting proudly towards her.

“ _Mine_.” He lifted her knees, opening them wide, licking his lips as he looked down at her - but he was too eager to wait, and he could see that she was too, slick and shining with the juices of her arousal.

The first thrust was so deep Darcy saw stars; it wasn’t rough, just long and slow, never stopping until Victor was seated to the hilt inside her, his balls brushing against her ass. He set her ankles on his shoulders, grasped the front of her thighs and grinned down at her, showing his fangs.

“Goodness,” Darcy gasped, writhing on that deep impalement, her body already beginning an involuntary tightening that presaged her climax, “what a big cock you have, Mr. Tiger.” She’d long since learned that he didn’t like being called a wolf.

“All the better to fuck you with, my dear,” Victor’s growl was a little breathless too as she clenched hard around him. Drawing back slowly, he plunged deep again, relishing Darcy’s ecstatic cry.

Deep rumbling snarls came from Victor’s throat as he took her, fucking into her rough and deep, just as Darcy liked it. Her hips were lifted right off the ground, her breasts bouncing; she clung to his wrists, the only part of him that she could reach, trying to find an anchor, something to hold onto.

“That’s it,” Victor growled in a voice barely recognisable as human, as he saw Darcy’s eyelids flutter, her breath catch. “That’s it, my queen…”

She screamed his name, her body clenching tighter, back arching as she pushed her hips up still further, and Victor stilled, his own back bowing as the sleek muscles rippling around his cock drew his climax from him. He flung his head back and _roared_ , the triumphant cry of a great cat claiming his mate, and Darcy’s own screams of ecstasy echoed the sound, echoing around the quiet, snowy woods.


	7. Be My Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day 2016 prompts.

“It’s Valentine’s Day next week,” Jane said one day, “what are you and Victor doing?”

Darcy stalled out, hands poised above the keyboard. “Oh, God. I really don’t think Victor is the Valentine’s Day type, Janey. If he thinks I want flowery romance he’ll probably cut and run and I won’t see him for a month.”

That made Jane laugh, but she cast Darcy a sympathetic look, and Darcy knew she was right.

“How do I keep him from freaking out?” she muttered under her breath when an email dropped into her inbox not half an hour later, announcing the _First Annual Avengers Facility Valentine’s Day Party!_ “And who the hell would have thought that Maria Hill was a secret romantic?” She shook her head over the cheesy romance-novel cover of a couple making out on a blurry background surrounded by pink heart balloons.

Posters started going up all around the facility the same day, and when Darcy spotted Victor looking at one with a doubtful expression, she knew what she had to do.

“Ugh,” she came up to stand beside him, wrinkled her nose at the poster. “What a load of sappy crap. Valentine’s Day is such a made-up holiday anyway, it’s totally an excuse for candy-manufacturers and Hallmark to do yet another cash grab.”

Victor looked down at her. “It is?” he asked.

“Yeah. Disgusting,” Darcy nodded emphatically.

_There. Hopefully I’ve convinced him that he needn’t panic now…_

Victor watched as Darcy walked away - he really could never resist that back view - before looking back at the poster, his mouth twisting ruefully. He’d been rather looking forward to going to the party with Darcy. See her dressed up special, looking beautiful, so he could take pride in his mate. He sighed and walked away, huge shoulders drooping just a little bit.

Darcy took care to hammer the point home over the next few days, and Victor showed every sign of being nothing but amused by Maria’s hearts-and-flowers approach to the holiday. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Valentine’s Day itself rolled around and she woke to find him still asleep in bed beside her. She’d half-expected him to have pulled his silent vanishing act in the middle of the night.

“Why don’t you finish early, Darce?” Jane said at four that afternoon. “Go get ready for the party.”

“I’m not inflicting that on Victor,” Darcy said firmly, “we’re going to have an evening in watching an action movie he’ll like. No hearts and flowers or romantic stuff at all.”

Jane sighed and shook her head. “Well - have a nice time anyway.”

“I will, because Victor will be there. Thanks for the early mark, darl,” and she leaned down to kiss Jane’s cheek. “You quitting too?”

“I am. Thor promised he’d be here, so I’m going to go and do my hair and put on a dress, for once,” Jane grinned back up at her. “Go on, off with you!”

Chuckling, Darcy headed back up to her apartment. Opening the door, she startled back, astonished.

“Darcy! You’re not supposed to be here yet!” Victor froze in the middle of the room.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” she asked in utter amazement, looking around.

“It was gonna be a surprise.”

The apartment looked - _romantic_. Not so much in the pink-hearts-and-Cupids way, but classical, beautiful. There were red roses in a vase on the table, which had been carefully laid with polished silverware and several red candles, already burning and releasing a lushly sensual fragrance into the air. It combined with the frankly _amazing_ smell coming from the kitchen.

“I know you think Valentine’s Day is a made-up holiday to profit Big Business,” Victor muttered a bit sheepishly as Darcy stared up at him in shock. “But - it’s still a day to celebrate love. And I love _you_ , Darcy Lewis. Will you be my Valentine?”

He was more than stunned when she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms, but quite happy to hold her and pet her hair while she cried happy tears against his chest.

And since she was home early, they had an hour to themselves to celebrate Valentine’s Day before dinner was ready, too.


	8. Poison Ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixty First Dates prompt

Victor took a deep breath and ran a hand over his hair, glad he’d just had it cut short again so that it wouldn’t look too wild. Checking that his coat was straight, he squared his shoulders and knocked on Darcy’s door.

It was Jane who opened it, giving him a warm smile. “Hi, Victor. Do come in. Darcy will be just a moment.”

He nodded a little awkwardly, moving past her. It was a tight squeeze with his bulk in the confined hallway, so he continued hastily into the living area, hearing Jane close the door behind him.

“I’m a couple minutes early,” he realised, looking at the clock on the wall, “sorry…”

“Better than late and Darcy beginning to panic you’d stood her up,” Jane smiled up at him again. “Really, don’t worry.” Heading over to one of the doors leading off the room, she knocked. “Darce, Victor’s here!”

“Be right out!” Darcy called, and it was indeed only a few seconds later that she opened the door.

Victor gaped in astonishment.

On their first meeting, Darcy had been dressed plainly in a bulky wool sweater and baggy pants, a beanie covering up her hair, glasses hiding her eyes. He’d been attracted to her sass more than her looks, though the warm, sensual scent that had teased his nose had also factored into his decision to ask her out. He’d actually been surprised when she said yes.

He certainly hadn’t expected her to transform into this, this _glorious_ woman, wearing a deep red dress that showed off her lusciously sensual form, her dark hair piled in flowing curls and waves, her eyes unhidden by glasses. Full lips painted a deep, succulent red that had him licking his own lips, hungry to taste her.

“Hi, Victor,” pleased with the effect her efforts to transform from frumpy intern to glamorous vamp obviously had on him, Darcy stepped forward. She’d bought new heels for the occasion as well, six-inch ones on lifts which still didn’t have the effect of making her feel anything other than tiny next to him.

“You look… magnificent,” was the only word he could come up with, quite in awe of her beauty and feeling even more honoured that she’d agreed to a date with him.

“Thank you!” Pleased, Darcy smiled. “You look pretty fine yourself,” he’d had a clean shave, and was wearing nicely tailored pants and a button-down shirt beneath his long black leather coat. No tie, but somehow she didn’t think Victor was a tie sort of guy.

“I brought you these,” suddenly remembering, Victor brought forward the vase he’d had tucked under his arm. “Picked them myself. The colour looked like your eyes, I thought…”

“Oh, how lovely!” Darcy reached to take the vase. “What unusual flowers. What are they, I’ve never seen anything like them before?”

“I don’t know the name,” Victor admitted. “Just found them growing wild not far from where I live, and the green stuff…”

“Uh, Darcy,” Jane had come forward to inspect the flowers, “I don’t think you should touch those.”

“Why?” Darcy turned to look at Jane, brow furrowed.

“Well, I’m pretty sure the _green stuff_ is poison ivy, and those pretty blue-violet flowers look like monkshood. Also known as wolfsbane. It’s very poisonous.”

“What?” Horrified, Victor snatched the vase back from Darcy’s hands. “Oh no. Oh hell, Darcy, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise!”

“It’s all right.” Recognising his mortification and genuine remorse, Darcy smiled at him. “It was a really lovely thought, Victor. You weren’t to know.”

“I’ll, I’ll, get rid of them,” Victor looked around a bit desperately.

“Why don’t you put them down here,” Jane pointed to the coffee table, “and I’ll have Thor get rid of them for you. You two go enjoy your date.”

Victor thanked her profusely, making Jane smile and shake her head. Darcy wouldn’t let the fact that Victor had accidentally brought her poisonous foliage dissuade her, Jane knew; though Victor was obviously going to need a little convincing. He washed his hands very thoroughly before Darcy convinced him to take her hand and lead her out of there, mouthing thanks at Jane behind his back.


	9. Through The Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of the Pietro Jealousy 'verse

He couldn’t stand it. Not. One. More. Second. If that silver-haired little speedster’s gaze lingered for _one more second_ on _his_ Darcy’s bosom, so help him, Victor was gonna rip his throat out with his bare claws. A soft growl rumbled in his throat as Darcy laughed and patted Pietro’s arm before turning to walk away.

The little Sokovian shit even watched Darcy walk away with an appreciative smirk on his pretty-boy face. Victor’s claws grated on the metal windowsill, making a whining noise that jerked him back to himself.

“Victor?” he heard Darcy’s voice in the hallway outside, turned to face the door. “Victor!” she flung it open, face shining with joy. “You’re back!” Running across the room, she flung herself into his arms, pressing kisses across his face.

“Didn’t look like you missed me all that much, not with pretty boy makin’ up to you,” Victor growled, trying to restrain the urge to shred her clothes from her body and take her right up against the window where Maximoff could see.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Darcy chided, “Pietro’s just a friend. He knows I have a boyfriend.”

“Does he? Does he know I’ll rip his pretty face off for lookin’ at you sideways?”

“Victor,” she put her hands to his cheeks, made him look at her. “You’re being jealous. It’s hot as fuck, but you don’t need to be.”

“Well, I am. You’re _mine_.”

Her pupils blew out with lust as he growled the possessive words. “I missed you so much,” she whispered, reaching to push his coat back off his shoulders. “Show me how much you missed _me_ , Victor…”

He lost the battle with his baser instincts and turned them around, hoisting Darcy easily up to seat her on the windowsill. Over her head, he could still see Maximoff in the distance, occasionally casting glances up at the window.

_I’ll show that little asshole just what it takes to keep a woman like Darcy satisfied…_

Darcy’s clothes floated to the floor in pieces as Victor tore them to shreds, though he never nicked her tender skin. His own clothes followed, equally destroyed, in his need to get them off quickly, to feel her silken skin against his again. She sobbed with joy as he lifted her ass in the air, pressing her back against the window, driving deep with one rough thrust. She was wet for him already, but tight, so tight. Victor’s eyes closed with bliss.

“Mine,” he growled, in a voice so harsh and deep it was barely even human. “You’re _mine_ , Darcy…”

“Yes,” she agreed deliriously, digging her heels into his ass. “Take me, Victor, make me yours, ohhh, yessss!” She howled with pleasure as his hips rocked, his claws biting very lightly into her butt, not hard enough to break the skin - just enough for her to feel it.

“Mine,” he bit at her throat, careful not to pierce the flesh with his fangs. “Mine. Mine. I’m not gonna stop leaving marks until _everyone_ knows it.” Victor glanced out of the window, smiled with triumph as he saw Pietro was no longer there.

“Yes, mark me up,” Darcy panted as Victor’s hips snapped back and forth faster, his powerful hands holding her still. “Show everyone I’m yours OHHHHH!” her scream as she came was loud enough that Victor suspected everyone in the facility had heard it.

Especially since the door was still open. Not that he gave a shit. Anyone stupid enough to look into the room after hearing noises like that fully deserved an eyeful.

“Good girl,” he praised, carrying Darcy, still wrapped tightly around him, through to the bedroom; easing her down to the bed still buried deep inside her. “That was just the start. Be at least tomorrow before I’m through sayin’ a proper hello.”

She moaned ecstatically as he eased his thumb in between them, teasing the tip of his claw over her clit with incredible delicacy. “The only thing that makes up for you going away,” she slurred out, “is the incredibly good fucking I always get when you get home.”

Victor grinned, his fangs showing, grinding his hips in a tight little circle. “You’re so perfect, my Darcy girl. So beautiful.”

She arched up, heels pulling on the backs of his thighs, breasts bouncing with every rough thrust. He gave in to the urge to lean down and bit on them, too, leaving the marks of his passion all over her even though he knew nobody would ever see them.

Pietro Maximoff would see the look of a well-fucked woman on Darcy tomorrow, in her swollen lips and drooping eyelids, the love bites all over her fair skin. When Victor finally deigned to let her out of his bed, anyway. And that would be quite good enough for Victor Creed.


	10. In The Kitchen???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Pietro Jealousy 'verse

Victor stepped out of the shower, towelling himself dry, stretching with languorous satisfaction. Even he was a little sore and tired after the previous night. It hadn’t stopped him from getting up early while Darcy still slept the deep sleep of the sated and going for a run in the woods, though he’d possibly been a little slower than he would otherwise have been.

Which unfortunately meant he’d missed his chance to join Darcy in the shower. She was already dressing when he got back and fended him off laughingly, insisting that she was in desperate need of coffee and food and that he was sweaty and smelly.

He’d given in with bad grace, knowing that she liked to linger over her breakfast, and that she would almost certainly sit with him while he ate anyway. He hurried into clean clothes and headed swiftly for the kitchen on bare feet, eager to be back in her company again.

His sensitive ears picked up the shouting well before he got there. _Darcy’s voice_. Victor quickened his pace to a run and sprinted into the kitchen to find Pietro and Darcy nose to nose, yelling at each other.

“It’s none of your fucking business!” Darcy was shouting angrily.

“It is every decent man’s business to speak up when he sees a woman being abused!” Pietro yelled right back, not backing down. Not, at least, until a clawed hand closed around his throat and flung him backwards, away from Darcy.

Pietro _blurred_ back up to his feet with a _hiss_ of rage - only to find Victor’s claws at his throat again, bared fangs gleaming.

“You ever raise your voice to her again, I will tear your throat out,” Victor’s voice was low and soft, a deep rumble of sound.

Pietro didn’t blink. “ _You_ ever raise your hand to her again and you will never see your death coming,” he vowed in response.

“Ignorant child,” Victor said contemptuously. “Did you _ask_ Darcy whether she had a problem, or did you just make assumptions when you saw the marks on her?”

Pietro’s blue eyes widened slightly, flew to Darcy, who was standing watching them in silence. She raised her eyebrows at him and deliberately took a sip of her coffee before speaking.

“He just started yelling about abusive boyfriends and didn’t listen when I tried to tell him that every single thing you did to me last night - and every other time we’re together - is entirely consensual.”

“Darcy,” Pietro’s voice cracked a little. “You can’t mean that. You can’t _enjoy_ him hurting you.”

“Victor’s right,” Darcy said on a sigh. “You _are_ a child. Go read up on BDSM, Pietro, and please keep your nose out of my business in future.”

Pietro’s face fell, and Victor almost - _almost_ \- felt sorry for him. He could smell the younger man’s emotions, though, chagrin and not a little thwarted lust, and he wasn’t prepared to just let the subject drop. He let his claws prick Pietro’s throat lightly.

“Before you go and start your research,” Victor said, “let’s get something straight. She,” he nodded towards Darcy, “is _mine_. Are we clear?”

“You can’t own _people_ ,” Pietro fired back.

Victor’s upper lip lifted in a snarl, shivering through the air. “She is mine, and I am _hers_ ,” he said menacingly. “If I catch you ignoring Darcy’s decisions regarding her own life or raising your voice to her again, your life will hang on the leash she holds in her dainty hand, do you understand me?”

Finally taking him seriously, Pietro swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I understand,” he muttered sullenly.

“Good. Now get out.” Victor didn’t lower his claws, though, forcing Pietro to step back. With one last glance at Darcy, the younger man spun on his heel and was gone in a blur.

“Thank you, darling,” Darcy smiled up at Victor. “He was ruining my appetite.”

With the other man gone, with the scent of his lust no longer clogging Victor’s sensitive nose, he was prepared to be magnanimous. “He was trying to do the right thing, looking out for you,” he said fairly, “but going about it the wrong way in not _listening_ to you.”

She reached up to hook her arms around his neck as he came to her; he lifted her easily to sit on the breakfast bar to make it a little easier, bring her a little closer to his size. “I really could care less, Victor.”

“He has no idea that he’d never have a chance with you even if I wasn’t around, does he?” Victor grinned at her, a quick flash of fangs.

“Not a clue.” Darcy smiled back at him, hooking her ankles around his waist, pulling him closer so that she could grind up against him. Victor growled softly, and a moment later she was flat on her back, him bending over her, big hands curving over her breasts.

“Oh seriously, in the _kitchen_?”

“Get out, Sam,” there wasn’t much human in Victor’s voice. Darcy giggled as she heard Sam’s put-upon sigh before the door closed.

“We probably _should_ take this back to the bedroom,” she pointed out.


	11. What Big Teeth You Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unrelated 'verse

The little human woman had been watching him all evening. Victor could smell her desire; a mixture of curiosity and lust, tinged with just enough fear that he couldn’t stop looking at her. It was a heady combination; enough, finally, to make him approach her, curious to see if her lust was enough to overcome her fear, for one night at least.

“Oh my God, he’s coming over,” Darcy squeaked at Jane, who cast a quick glance over her shoulder.

“Well you _have_ been staring at him with your tongue hanging out all night, he’s probably coming over to tell you to put it away!”

“Oh, like you don’t gape at Thor just that way,” Darcy muttered. “No, don’t leave!” she clutched at Jane’s arm.

“No way, I’m not going to stand here and be a third wheel while you drool all over Catman!” Jane wrenched her arm loose and made her escape.

“It’s Sabertooth, not Catman, you traitor,” Darcy hissed, but under her breath, because Victor was getting close now, his eyes still fixed on hers even as he paused to speak to Clint, who’d briefly accosted him. Darcy debated fleeing while she had the chance, but she had the distinct suspicion that Victor would give chase, like a cat after a mouse, and that she needed to make sure he didn’t see her as prey.

Steeling herself as he approached, firming her knocking knees and lifting her chin challengingly - damn it, why was he _so_ tall? Darcy’s train of thought derailed as Victor stepped just a little too close, into the bubble of her personal space, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his eyes. He was close enough for her to breathe in his scent, warm, spicy and somehow _feral_ , head-spinningly intoxicating.

She was never afterwards sure what induced her to open her mouth and blurt out an unbelievably risqué proposition. Pure lust, probably.

“Want to come over and watch porn on my flat screen mirror?”

Victor blinked, once, before he began to smile broadly, not bothering to hide his sharp fangs. Damn, but he liked the little human’s spunk. Her scent was almost pure lust now as she eyed him boldly. Leaning down towards her, he growled softly;

“You should stop undressing me with your eyes and start using your teeth.”

She gulped. “ _Your_ teeth look better suited to the job, frankly, but I’m willing to give it a go.”

Victor laughed, held out a big hand to her, palm up. “Letting my teeth get that close to your skin is a risky proposition, little Darcy Lewis. I might decide that I want to eat you all up.”

The filthy inflection he put on the last words was impossible to miss. Darcy smiled up at him, put her hand in his.

“Why, mister… cat,” she replied, “what big teeth you have!”


	12. Hold On To Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of the Pietro Jealousy 'verse

Victor carried Darcy straight back to their apartment. She just about managed to give the door a push to close it behind them, not wanting anyone to see the open door and think it an invitation to enter. The noises she suspected they were about to make would probably put them off, anyway… her train of thought cut off as Victor literally tossed her on the bed.

“Hey!” she protested as she bounced on the mattress.

“Get those clothes off before I shred yet another set,” Victor retorted, but his eyes were glinting with humour and she could tell that he wasn’t serious.

Well. Not _very_ serious. He was shucking his own clothes pretty rapidly, and Darcy knew from experience that if she didn’t get a move on, he’d end up losing patience and her clothes _would_ get wrecked. She’d used to put on old things whenever Victor arrived home, but frankly she’d long since exhausted her supply of clothes she was willing to sacrifice to his claws

“Glorious,” Victor murmured, watching Darcy wriggle swiftly out of her clothes, tossing them off the side of the bed before laying back and opening her arms to him.”You’re so lovely, my girl, how did I ever get so lucky as to find you?”

She returned a pert smile. “Can’t imagine, but if you don’t come here and fuck me right now, you might not get to _keep_ me.”

“Oh, like that, is it?” he chuckled, before setting a knee on the bed and crawling towards her, moving slowly, stalking her like the lethal predator he was. Darcy’s lips parted as she watched him, her pupils blowing wide with lust, breath coming fast with anticipation.

“I’d hold onto something if I were you,” Victor growled, and Darcy instinctively reached up behind her head, wrapped her hands around the smooth wrought-iron bars of the headboard behind her. Or, it _looked_ like wrought-iron. It was something a good deal stronger. After about the tenth bed she and Victor had broken Stark had built them a new one, that so far hadn’t done more than creak ominously even when Victor was at his most enthusiastic.

“That’s it,” Victor purred approvingly as Darcy braced herself. “Gonna give you the nice rough fucking you want, little girl.”

She let out a little whimper as he traced bared claws delicately up her soft inner thigh, circled a viciously sharp point around her clit. Shiny trails of slick trickled over his claws; he paused to lick them up, tasting still the faint traces of his own essence mingled with hers, and the vanilla and coconut soap she liked to use in the shower. He didn’t like strong artificial scents; Darcy had figured that out early in their relationship and taken the trouble to find natural products that didn’t bother his sensitive nose.

The taste was glorious as he licked it slowly from his claws and Victor closed his eyes in brief bliss before deciding that he needed more and settling down between Darcy’s legs, pressing his face into her bush.

Darcy groaned as Victor’s long, dextrous tongue swept a long stroke over her clit. Her fingers tightened to a white-knuckle grip as two long, thick fingers (claws now safely sheathed) suddenly drove hard inside her, before starting to pump in time with the strokes of his tongue over her clit.

Still extremely sensitive from their vigorous lovemaking the night before, it took scant seconds before Darcy’s toes curled and she screamed his name, back arching in a spine-shaking orgasm which Victor prolonged with deliberate teasing laps of his tongue over her clit, his long fingers rubbing circles over her G-spot.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Darcy panted, collapsing back to the bed. Victor lifted his head, grinning, fangs showing as he licked his lips clean.

“You taste so delicious,” he said gutturally, moving up over her. “Keep holding on there, little girl.”

She groaned as she felt the thick, blunt head of his cock pushing into her. Swollen tissues protested the intrusion in a pleasure/pain combination that made her bite her lip and see stars.

“Easy,” Victor whispered in her ear, slowing his movements. “Easy.”

“Hnnn,” was about all the reply she could make just then; he chuckled, himself sounding a little short of breath, pressed his face into her neck and busied himself sucking in a slow bruise just below her ear. By the time the mark was sufficiently dark enough to please him, Darcy had adjusted, was making tiny sounds in her throat, hips rocking as she tried to pull him deeper, make him _move_.

“More?” Victor growled. He didn’t much care for the way he sounded during sex; unable to control the more animal noises his throat made. Darcy, however, always claimed that she loved it, that she could feel his snarls and growls reverberating through her body. She moaned as he asked the question, nodded frantically.

“Oh please. Victor, _please_.”

“Tell me if it’s too much.” Animal instincts or not, there was always a part of him aware that Darcy was all too human, all too fragile in comparison to his preternatural strength. Victor Creed wasn’t a gentle man, he never had been and never would be, but with Darcy his every protective instinct came to the fore. Even to the point of protecting her from himself.

“Now!” she yelled, pulled at him with her heels digging hard into the backs of his thighs. He could feel her bracing, her arms tensing to grip the metal bars harder. “Fuck me, Victor, do it now, harder, oh God, YES!!!”

Her screams of pleasure echoed off the walls as Victor obeyed, giving her exactly what she wanted, rough deep thrusts that shook her whole body with the impact every time his groin smacked back into hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I THINK that's all the ficlets, that's all I can find right now anyway! If anyone knows of another I've missed out, please let me know!


	13. I Think I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Sixty First Dates series.

Darcy was just about to take a mouthful of her pasta when her fork flew out of her hand and straight up in the air to stick to the ceiling. Mouth still open, she stared up at it before lowering her gaze to Victor.

“Why do I have the ominous feeling that everything is about to go to hell in a handbasket?”

Victor blinked, looked up at the fork on the ceiling, and said “Oh _shit_ ,” with great fervency, just before leaping to his feet. “I’m sorry about this, Darcy,” he said, “get down and hide until it’s all over…”

The door to the restaurant fell from its hinges with a tremendous smash of glass as a tall man stalked up to it.

“That’s Magneto!” someone screamed. Darcy was already hiding under the table, being pretty sure that any time Victor wore that expression was a good time to hide under tables. Peeking out, she saw through the customers currently stampeding out the back way that Magneto was indeed just walking up to face Victor.

“You’re not so easy to track down, considering how much you stand out in a crowd,” the powerful mutant leader said coldly.

“You get good at hiding when you’ve spent a century and a half being hunted,” Victor growled back. “You of _all_ people should understand that.”

That actually seemed to give Magneto pause before he shook his head. “It’s too late now, Victor. For you and me both. I need your assistance.”

“No.”

“I’m not _asking_.”

“No, Erik! How many people died last time, because of what we did? Enough!” It was a bellow of rage from Victor. Darcy felt a sudden upsurge of pride in him as he stood, unafraid, before the man who was often called ‘the most dangerous mutant alive’.

Magneto’s lip curled back in a snarl and he lifted his hands.

Victor roared with pain as his fingers raised up against his will, the adamantium sheaths on his claws tearing at his flesh as Magneto forced the metal to do his bidding. The bones in his hands began to crack as his fingers spread further and further apart. The agony was almost beyond bearing, even for him.

Victor had moved well away from their table to face Magneto; Darcy was pretty sure that the other mutant hadn’t even noticed her. Frightened, and quite sure that the man wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her to try and force Victor to do his bidding, she’d shoved her hand into her mouth to try and keep herself from making even the smallest sound.

Seeing Magneto literally torturing Victor, though, she couldn’t just sit by and do nothing about it. The metal-bender was facing away from her, and Darcy dived her hand into her pocket before her brain caught up and told her that what she was about to do was a really, really terrible idea.

She shot Magneto right in the ass with her Taser.

Darcy wasn’t sure quite what she’d expected, but the mutant went down _hard,_ twitching and spasming as the powerful electric current tore through him. His power apparently cut off when he fell because Victor’s hands dropped from where they were forced up.

“ _Darcy_?” Victor said incredulously, his eyes tracking the sparking wires back under the table where they’d been sitting. Bright blue eyes peeked out at him.

“Is he gonna get up? Because if he is, I’m not coming out.”

Victor drew back a boot and kicked the twitching Erik very hard in the head. The older man fell unconscious immediately.

“No, he’s not gettin’ up. I’ll get someone to come deal with him.”

“Good.” Darcy crawled out from under the table while Victor tugged out his phone and texted his brother. She gave Magneto a kick of her own for good measure, smiling triumphantly. “See how you like _that_ , asshole! Hah!”

“... I think I love you.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” Victor said hastily.


	14. You're Very Sexy When You're Angry

“And another thing!” Darcy turned back to Victor, waving her finger at him in annoyance. “Attempting to peel Tony out of the Iron Man suit like a cat getting sardines out of a tin just because he made an inappropriate remark about my boobs is not okay!”

Victor looked down at the finger she was waggling a good foot below his nose. “What would you suggest I do instead?” he rumbled mildly. “I will not stand for anyone disrespecting you like that.”

She wanted to melt, but made herself stand firm. “You let me deal with it! I’ve been dealing with Stark’s smart mouth for years now!”

“And you have not caused him to stop with his disrespect, so it appears that your methods are not working.”

Darcy, already red-faced with annoyance, went even redder, went up on tiptoe and poked Victor in the chest with one tiny finger. “You. Let. Me. Deal. With. It. Trust me, I’d have gotten him back. It’s like a game with Stark. He makes some rude remark, I prank him. I didn’t take offence, Victor. I just started plotting my revenge, and now you’ve ruined it trashing his suit; I _owe_ him!”

“Ah,” Victor suddenly understood. Darcy did not like owing debts. “I see.”

“Do you really?” Darcy put her hands on her hips, scowled up at him.

“You’re very sexy when you’re angry,” he blurted.

Startled, Darcy blinked, before a slow smile spread across her face. “Says the man with almost as many anger management issues as the Hulk.”

“Perhaps that’s why I find _your_ anger so sexy.” His voice dropped to a soft, sexy purr, a sound that always made shivers tremble up Darcy’s spine and her nipples peak to attention.

“Remind me what I was angry about again?” she asked a little breathlessly as his long arms curled around her, drawing her close.

“No,” Victor said thickly right before he lifted her clear off her feet to kiss her senseless.


	15. Tempting The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written as a birthday ficlet for georgiagirlagain; not part of any other TaserTooth AU.

“I reckon you’re all talk, big guy,” Darcy teased, looking up at Victor. His eyebrows went up, and he leaned over, putting one huge hand down on the bar beside hers. One look at that hand had Darcy melting internally. _God, what she wanted Victor to do with those hands!_ But he never seemed to go past the point of amused tolerance for her flirting.

“You’ve seen me in action,” he rumbled.

“Not _that_ kind of action. You know,” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “The _other_ kind of action. I’d like to see that very much, actually.”

“You play with fire, little girl,” Victor said softly. Darcy rolled her eyes at him, leaned back against the bar and deliberately started playing with the top button of her blouse.

“I’m not a _little girl_. Though I wouldn’t be at all averse to sitting on your lap.” Plumping her lips to a pout, she blew him a kiss. “Burning the sheets up some, too.”

A soft growl rumbled in Victor’s chest; the hairs on the back of Darcy’s neck stood up.

“So hot,” she almost panted it. “Do you make noises like that in bed?”

The growl got louder; Victor’s eyes gleamed gold. “You really want to find out, little girl?”

She rose to her feet, gazing up over the clear sixteen inches of height difference between them, entirely unafraid. “Yes. I do.”

The world spun around her as he swept her off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder. Across the room, Jane put out her hands to stay Thor and Steve as they both started up with alarm. “It’s fine,” she said loudly. “Everything’s fine.”

Natasha chuckled as Victor carried Darcy past her, waggled her fingers at Darcy. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she called.

“ _Is_ there anything you wouldn’t do?” Darcy called back.

“Er… no. Never mind!” Pointing at Steve, Natasha said “And _you_ had better go for a nice long run. Really long. Your brain will probably melt because of the noise, otherwise.”

Victor ignored all the chatter, Steve’s indignant noises and Sam’s catcalls, just carrying Darcy off to his room. She was quite relaxed on his shoulder, petting his back lightly through his shirt. His fingers flexed, claws tearing very lightly at her clothes; the fabric shredded instantly against their brutal sharpness and she didn’t even object to that.

The rumbling growl in Victor’s chest had quieted, transmuted to what Darcy was pretty sure was a purr. She smothered a chuckle as he tossed her onto his bed and climbed on after her, bracing himself above her, smiling broadly to show his fangs.

“Last chance to back out.”

Darcy smiled, reaching up to touch his stubbled cheek. “Now I know for sure you’re not a bad guy any more. That’s definitely a good guy thing to say.”

Victor’s claws swiped; her blouse and bra fell away, making Darcy gasp, but he was so precise he hadn’t even brushed her skin.

“A good guy wouldn’t fuck you like I’m about to. I’m gonna show you what real fucking is, little girl.”

“Oh good,” Darcy wiggled happily as he lowered his head to taste her mouth. “About time too, frankly.”


	16. I Dream Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted from [Birthday Gifts For The Soulmate 2017](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9211319/chapters/20891147)

Darcy sighed and flopped down on the bed in her hotel room. It was sinfully comfortable - travelling on Stark’s dime had many advantages - and far too large for just her, especially now that she’d got used to sharing a bed with Victor’s massive, furnace-hot body. She’d have to turn the aircon right up just to get to sleep, or she’d be too cold.

Her phone buzzed, and she hauled herself upright long enough to grab her purse and pull the phone out. A smile came to her lips as she saw Victor’s image on the screen, and she swiped quickly to answer.

“Hey, baby,” his gruff voice rumbled. “How was your day?”

“Long,” Darcy sighed. “It’s a lot of work, keeping an eye on Jane when she’s surrounded by eager scientists. And it looks like room service for dinner, since Thor turned up and Jane’s highly unlikely to surface until morning.”

“Yeah? You lonely?” There was an undertone of amusement to his voice.

“Damn right I am.” She sat up and hugged her knees. “Always, without you. I had this dream about you last night.”

“Did you?” His gruff voice dropped even lower, and Darcy had the warm feeling that he was really close somehow. “What was I doing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She chuckled, wondered if she had the energy to wiggle out of her clothes. Just the sound of his voice felt like a caress on her skin. She could almost feel his warm breath on the back of her neck…

… that _was_ hot breath on the back of her neck. The phone went flying as Darcy shrieked and tried to scramble away; her heart pounding with fright. Victor caught her easily around the waist and scooped her back onto the bed, laughing.

“You asshole!” she whacked ineffectually at his broad shoulders with her tiny fists. He grinned, showing his fangs. “God, you are _such_ a cat, sneaking up on me like that! What are you even doing here?” She couldn’t stay angry with him; she was too glad to see him.

“Hitched a ride with Thor. Miss me?”

“So much,” she wound her arms around his neck, stroked her fingers into the thick pelt of his hair, so much softer than a regular human’s. “So much that I’ll even forgive you for scaring the crap out of me.”

A low purr rumbled in Victor’s chest as she petted him, and he bent his head to nuzzle into her neck. “Good, because I missed you too.”


	17. Ice Cream and Boners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You Came Back 'verse, copied over from Birthday Gifts To The Soulmate 2017

Darcy woke up being carried up a flight of apparently endless stairs by Logan. “Oh,” she said vaguely, “it’s you. Good. Is Victor here?” She could feel him, vaguely, through the soulmate bond, but she felt too unwell to focus on it.

“He’s angry and taking it out on those bastards who had you,” Logan said shortly. “He knows I have you safe. He’ll be along shortly.”

Victor also didn’t like for Darcy to see him covered in blood, she knew, so she let her eyes drift closed and relaxed in Logan’s hold. He didn’t feel or smell quite the same as Victor, but it was close enough to be comforting, and comforting was good after the last few days.

When she woke up again, she was in Avengers Tower; she recognised the medical wing. Victor sat beside her bed, wearing his customary dark and brooding expression.

“Hey, Tiger,” she whispered, disgusted that her voice came out weak and thready. Victor didn’t smile, but the lines of tension around his eyes eased marginally.

“Darcy!” It was Helen Cho’s voice; the slender doctor came into view, Logan as usual shadowing her every move. “How are you feeling?” Helen’s hand wrapped around hers lightly.

“A whole shedload better than… whenever it was Logan picked me up,” she admitted raspily. Helen frowned, picked up a cup from the nightstand and brought a straw to her lips. Darcy sucked greedily and sighed with pleasure as the cool water soothed her throat.

“Everyone who was involved in your kidnapping is dead,” Victor said grittily. Darcy gave him a smile of loving approval, knowing that he needed to assure her of that fact. Her kidnappers had been too frightened of Victor’s potential wrath to physically abuse her - but the problem was that they were too frightened that she might perhaps share some of his abilities to get anywhere near her, either.

Which in effect meant that she’d been starving to death for the six days they’d had her. Thank God there’d been a tiny sink in her cell or she might not have survived long enough to be found.

Her stomach growled loudly, and she gave Helen a hopeful look. The other woman laughed.

“I’ve got soup on a warmer for you. Logan, be a darling and go get it, would you?”

Darcy still found it funny to watch Logan jump to obey his soulmate’s every command. He was back in moments with the bowl of soup on a tray, a few saltine crackers on the side. Darcy was fairly sure that Victor intended to feed her himself, but she wasn’t that far gone. She gave him a narrow-eyed look and he sighed, helped her sit up and set a bed-tray across her thighs.

“There’s ice cream for afters if you get that lot down and keep it down for fifteen minutes,” Helen said encouragingly.

“Please tell me it’s chocolate?”

“Would I dare give you anything else?”

She felt weak halfway through, gave up and let Victor take the spoon, but she was determined to eat it all. The thought of the ice cream kept her going.

Finally she swallowed the last mouthful of soup, lay back against the pillows. Helen gently asked if she could give her an examination; Darcy hushed the faint growl rumbling in Victor’s chest and nodded.

Helen shooed Logan and Victor out; Darcy could hear Victor pacing in the corridor just outside, smiled to herself as she lay back and let Helen check her over with gentle, careful fingers.

“Ready for that ice cream now?” Helen asked finally, and Darcy grinned at her.

“When have I ever not been ready for ice cream?”

They’d spent many an evening when Logan and Victor were away curled up on a couch together sharing a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and mainlining _Parks and Recreation_. Helen grinned at her, turned to open the door and called Victor back in, sending Logan off again to fetch Darcy’s ice cream.

“How’s she doing?” Victor asked Helen quietly, looking at Darcy lying back against the pillows with her eyes closed, face almost as pale as the bedding.

“On the mend,” Helen told him equally quietly. “We’ve done everything we can, but she needs time now.”

“Whatever she needs,” Victor growled quietly, “she’ll have.”

Logan came in with another bowl, and Victor took it off his hands to take to Darcy. She almost snatched it, grabbing up the spoon and shoving it in her mouth with a moan of pleasure.

Victor’s reaction was completely involuntary. And because he was standing right beside the bed with his groin at Darcy’s eye level, she really couldn’t miss it. She choked on the ice cream and started laughing.

“You cannot be serious!”

Helen looked puzzled, but Logan instantly spied what had set Darcy off and snorted with a laugh of his own.

“Now? _Seriously_?”

“No! I don’t know how I got a boner, it just kind of happened!” Victor was red with embarrassment. “It was the way you were eating that ice cream, I bet! Making those noises!” He glared down at Darcy accusingly, but he also clearly had no intention of leaving her side, so Logan urged a giggling Helen out.

“I’m sorry,” Victor dropped back into the chair beside the bed. “I really didn’t mean to… I know you’re not… it really was the noises…”

Darcy couldn’t stop her giggles. The happy, musical sound was a balm to Victor’s soul after the last week, probably the worst of his life, since he’d returned to their apartment to find her vanished without a trace. Settling back in his chair, he smiled at her. Embarrassing himself in front of his brother was worth it to hear Darcy laugh again.


	18. Who The Hell Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted from Birthday Gifts For The Soulmate 2017.

Darcy was angry. She was very, very angry. Unfortunately at the moment the only way she could take out her fury was by kicking the seat in front of her, and her captors had taken all the fun out of that the moment one of them pressed a gun barrel against her kneecap and told her that she didn’t need to be able to walk to be useful. She settled for growling imprecations under her breath instead.

“I feel sick,” she announced after about half an hour - she thought it had been about half an hour, anyway, it was kind of hard to tell with a black pillowcase over her head.

“Shut up, bitch.” The gun barrel tapped on her kneecap again.

“I’ll shut up, but I’m gonna barf, and this bag ain’t gonna hold it all in. I had tacos for lunch, too. Gonna smell pretty bad.”

“We’re nearly there. Hold it fucking in or I’ll make you fucking eat it.”

She clenched her jaw. She was definitely going to point this bastard out to Thor for a good smiting with Mjölnir. If she could figure out which one he was when they took the damn hood off, anyway.

It was almost funny how often the idiots looking for Jane managed to mistake Darcy for her boss. Possibly that was because Jane was insanely good at being unobtrusive and often managed to fade into the background. Or maybe because the idiots inevitably came during the day when Jane was sound asleep in her trailer after a hard night of stargazing and math, and Darcy was in the lab instructing the interns and looking like she was In Charge.

Apparently this bunch hadn’t bothered to look at a picture of Jane either. One small feisty brunette was apparently much like another in their books. Darcy sighed and tried very hard not to puke, consoling herself with the thought that it surely wouldn’t be much longer. Heimdall would just wait until she stopped moving to send in the cavalry… or rather, Thor and the Warriors Three.

The car finally stopped, just as she was losing the battle with the nausea. The car door opened and she was yanked out roughly.

“We got her, boss,” a voice said excitedly. Darcy thought it was the guy who’d been threatening her kneecap with the gun. He was standing behind her, holding onto her left arm. _Smiting_ , she thought at him viciously.

“Bring her inside,” a new voice said. Darcy would have remembered _that_ voice if she’d ever heard it before, she was quite sure. It was impossibly deep, a low basso rumble that made all the hair on her arms stand on end. It sounded, she thought foolishly, like the roar of a tiger. She smiled under the hood. The voice probably belonged to a little tiny guy. Someone the size of Tyrion Lannister. Although it did sound as if it was coming from quite a distance above her head… maybe he was up a flight of stairs or something.

Kneecap Dude pushed on her arm, and she moved forward, feeling with her feet, but there were no steps. Just flat ground. Soon she was pushed to sit down in a chair, and the bag was snatched off her head. Blinking in the light, she squinted up, and _up_ , at the man standing in front of her.

He was _gigantic_. She suspected he might be even bigger than Thor, tall and solid, a long black coat over black pants and sweater making him look dark and menacing. His eyes gleamed gold as he looked down at her, an instant before he frowned and said

“Who the hell are _you_?” in that stomach-trembling, impossibly deep voice.

“I am Darcy Louise Lewis, and _you_ , buster, are in a _shit_ ton of trouble,” she snapped back at him.

Gigantic Dude took a step back, before turning that golden stare on Kneecap Dude. “Get out,” he growled.

Darcy half expected the other man to argue, but he almost ran from the room, the door slamming behind him.

That golden stare returned to her, even more intense, and the smartass retort that had been rising up in her throat died a sudden death as he slowly, menacingly, stripped off his black coat.

_Oh fuck. He could do a lot of damage to me with his bare fists before the cavalry arrives…_

The shirt followed, revealing a heavily muscled chest, thickly furred with dark hair running down to a fine happy trail down the centre of perfectly defined abs. Darcy cursed her stupid brain for her eyes following that happy trail all the way down to his belt. _He’s gonna undo that next, and then take off his pants and probably rape me…_ she had no illusions about her ability to fight back against a guy built like a tank.

“Darcy Louise Lewis,” the now half naked giant rumbled at her.

“That’s me,” she said, trying for a flippant tone that didn’t quite come off.

“ _My_ Darcy Louise Lewis.” He turned his back on her, and she stared disbelievingly at the words running in a scribbled line right across the small of his back.

“Fuck a _duck_ ,” was all that she could think of to say. Lightning crashed overhead, and she winced. “How attached are you to the idea of being a bad guy?”

Her soulmate - whose name she still didn’t know, she realized - shrugged those huge shoulders. “I’m a mercenary. Can’t say that I care about good or bad as long as the money’s good.”

“Trust me, Asgard has more riches than you can possibly conceive of. If you want to survive the next five minutes, do _exactly_ what I say.”

Victor considered his tiny, unexpectedly human soulmate, and shrugged. “Alright.”

“Pick me up. You’re rescuing me, okay? What’s your name?”

“Victor. Victor Creed.”

“I like it,” Darcy decided as he swung her easily up into his arms. He couldn’t help a smile as she hooked a small arm around his neck. He had the distinct feeling that Darcy Louise Lewis was going to keep him very busy indeed.


End file.
